A Night Outlandishly
by mercurialmaven
Summary: Nyota wants to play a game.


**Title: A Night Outlandishly**  
**Author:Mercurial Maven**  
**Pairings:Spock/Uhura**  
**Characters:Spock/Uhura- Random bitches Uhura knows (That's what Spock calls them in his head ^_^)**  
**Rating:NC-17, Mature**  
**Warnings: Contains explicit sexuality, hints of consensual nonconsent, and profanity**  
**Spoilers:None.**  
**Disclaimer:If I owned my own Spock, I'd do this fic with him. Unfortunately I don't own the characters of this fic or anything associated with the Star Trek Universe as created by Roddenberry and crew.**  
**Summary: Nyota wants to play a game.**

**A/N: This is the quintessential PWP. There was no beta, it was very spur of the moment, and pulled from the very depths of well...you don't want to know. That said, it's a quick read. Those who may have issues with consensual non-consent or sexual assault should NOT read this as it may cause an adverse reaction. That said, peace and long life.**

"I want to play a game..." Nyota said as she swung around in her desk chair. Her fingers traced over the edge of her PADD before reaching up to pull out her ear bud.

There was a slight frown on Spock's face and he looked up from his computer monitor. Scores of PADDS and texts surrounded him, the left overs of a week's worth of work thrown at him, last minute, by a flustered Captain. He had no time for games of any variety at the moment, nor did he think he would until they were back in transit. "You're bored." He said matter of factually.

"When you say it like that you make it sound like an affliction." She wrinkled her nose before chuckling. "Come on Spock we've both been working our butts off since we arrived here. In fact the only thing we haven't done since shore leave is actually go to shore."

Spock let out an audible sigh. She did have a good point. Upon docking, the only time they had left the Head Quarters was to purchase food at the commissary. But as it stood, they both had been burdened with an inordinate amount of work in preparation for their next diplomatic rendezvous. Kirk, in all of his glory had once again thought he could fly by the seat of his pants in regards to meeting with the Arcadian Ambassador, but after he mispronounced her name, the whole deal went steadily downhill.

"If we're to have any success in placating the Arcadians than perhaps that energy can be focused on more productive pursuits." He replied dryly, becoming more than aware of sinewy caramel arms folding across the chest he admired when no one was looking.

"Kirk told the Ambassador that 'He hoped her penis did not turn into an uncomfortable bathtub.' I don't think there's really any face-saving to be done after something like that." If she had to be honest with herself, upon hearing his complete mangling of the language, it took everything in Nyota to not burst out laughing. She even mashed her face against her PADD and pretended to be studying something that was difficult to translate. Anything was better than watching the doll faced woman as her mouth fell open in complete shock.

"What did I say?" Kirk asked, his dashing smile accentuated by his naieve arrogance.

Bringing herself back to the present Nyota stifled another inappropriate guffaw just in time to observe spock rising from the carpeted floor to stretch his legs. "If I play this game with you," Spock began, "Can we return to our responsibilities? These reports and letters of apology must all be submitted in 48 hours."

Nyota rose slowly and walked to him, trailing her hands up his arms and to this neck, she leaned forward, pulled his head down, and whispered in his ear.

Spock's reaction was one that could not be mistaken. His eyes widened and he fell into a small fit of coughs, his throat constricting upon hearing Nyota's explicit description. "Nyota I..." he started, clearing his throat and looking away from her, "I fail to see how that qualifies as a game. Were we to be caught..."

"We won't...be caught." Nyota whispered, her lips drifting mere centimeters from Spock's. " I know just how we can do it."

Thursday nights were never big party nights, but Nyota was happy that she was able to find a few old academy friends to reconnect with. Leaving Spock in their quarters to get some much needed rest and finish paperwork, she barely noticed when the clock struck one a.m.

"Okay girls, I've gotta run! It's been so great!" She said, hugging the group as they all blearily waved goodbye.

"Are you sure you can't stay for one more drink Nia?" One of the women begged, putting on her best pouting face and batting mascara smudged eyelashes. Nyota laughed uproariously.

"I'm already late getting home and slightly tipsy. Spock's going to have my ass. Then again, that might not be such a bad thing." She gave out one last around of hugs and stepped out into the balmy night air. She felt kind of bad leaving Spock at home, but he said he would rather not intrude on her 'female bonding time.' He even avoided chastising her when she stepped out of their bedroom wearing a too short black mini dress that looked as if it were made out of gauze bandaging.

His eyebrow definitely shot up, however, when she pulled on a pair of strappy 6 inch stilettos and affixed a pair of large hoops to her ears. She looked like a harlot, not that Spock had any personal knowledge to work off of, but he certainly had seen enough examples of human pornography to know when a woman was dressed like she wanted to 'get fucked.'

He acknowledged her with a head nod and only asked that she be safe and alert him if she needed assistance getting home. He could sense that she was a little annoyed with his lack of response, but shrugged it off as him being absorbed in his work. Planting a light kiss on his forehead, she left.

The night air was warm and did nothing to help Nyota's state.

"There's a she wolf in the closet..." She began singing lightly to herself, at one point weaving a teensy bit on her heels and using a light post to keep herself steady. "Calm down girl, only 3 more blocks."

Dancing shadows played under the street lights and the night was eerily quiet with all things considered. Every once in awhile a balcony filled with students would erupt into a fit of laughter, but there was nothing out of the ordinary. Even the moon seemed to be content in its normality, something Nyota found herself taking an extreme amount of solace in.

She rounded the last corner, passing past a floral shop and the small Hindu temple/restaurant where she normally ordered on she and Spock's lazy nights. It seemed as if everything happened too quickly. The air went thick and suddenly her wrists were forcefully pushed together as she was dragged into the small alley between the two buildings.

She couldn't breath, not when she was trying hard to maintain her balance on those damned heels. Not when a hand was roughly over her mouth and a hard body forced her, face forward, into a wall. She felt restrained, frightened...no...terrified. Her attacker did little to reassure her as he squeezed her jaw forcefully, a silent reminder to keep her mouth shut.

He finally released her and pressed his lips to her ear. She knew those lips, and maybe that's why her body could not help but respond. The strong hand that pinned her wrists behind her back released her and drifted down her pert rear-end, fingering the taut lines of the dress before wandering to the hem to move the dress up. It peeled up like the flesh of an orange, agonizingly slow, hugging the nubile supple flesh like a last caress.

Nyota let out a soft squeal as her molester palmed her cheeks, his thumb drifting towards her opening, flitting over the cusp of her thighs and buttocks, before giving a firm squeeze.

"You've been advertising this to me all night." Gods, she knew that voice too, and never imagined it could turn her on this much. The hand that, at one point seized her mouth and clutched at the fine hairs at the back of her neck, not fluttered to her breasts to pull the dress top down. Her nipples were taught and begging for his touch, for anything. Even the cool brick of the building that currently acted as her erotic prison was enough to make her moan deep in her throat as it brushed against her.

"Please..." Nyota began.

"Please what?" The man whispered, grinding his growing erection against her. "Please fuck you?" His inhalation was deep, the consequence of instinct taking over where his rational mind had begun to falter. The passing head lights of cars blurred into mere mood lighting for this intoxicating scene unfolding before him. "Please use you the way little sluts who dress like you deserve to be used."

"Oh...god..."Nyota murmured. She was delirious in her excitement, the combination of alcohol, loosening inhibition, surprise, and naughtiness threatening to shove her over the precipice before this man could even get a chance to taste what he had created. "Please touch me...Please..."

His hand drifted back up to her hair and knotted it in his fist roughly. "Begging already? But I haven't even begun yet." His free fingers skimmed up the back of her thigh, causing her to shudder. Her breaths came in rasps, uneven and broken. She felt his being, his entire essence, in those single digits as one, than two, skimmed over the hot moisture coalescing between her thighs. Her mantric moans became a suppressed shriek as one finger entered her with tortuously slow speed and the other went about circling her clitoris, smearing her feminine potions about the downy petals of her sex.

She shuddered and heaved. Her eyes grew blurry with unreleased tears and she turned her head to the heavens, begging to Moon to remember this night for her, in case she forgot. To be the witness of her sinful nature, in case she ever thought herself too pure to feel this way again. She felt, rather than saw, her alley way amour remove his fingers from her and nearly fainted as he, once again, brought his lips to her ears and his fingers to her mouth.

"Taste yourself my little tart. See how your body gives itself away so easily?" Nyota responded eagerly, lapping at her juices and cleaning his fingers with clinical precision. She was lost now, the haze of sensuality too deep to ignore. It was too dirty, too filthy, it all felt too fucking good, and she needed it now. Feeling like a dog in heat, she rubbed her exposed rear end against his member in earnest, wordlessly beseeching that he take what he came for. Why prolong the inevitable?

Her eyes peered over her shoulders mischievously as she felt his hand tug at the button and zipper on his pants.

"Get it over with." She spat out, "If you want it, take it!" She howled and was muffled instantly by her own arm as her lover filled her to the brink with his manhood, thick, unrelenting, and unforgiving viciousness, he pummeled into her. There was no romance, no kind words, merely the animistic sounds of a man and woman in the dark recesses of society. The air around them sung with the petulant rhythm of flesh hitting flesh. Low growls, coarse whines, the shift in consciousness as spirit and mentality separated, copulated, and gave birth to devilish indecency.

"Damn you..." His hands grabbed her hips with bruising force and Nyota used the wall as leverage to push herself back. His words spurred her on. She wanted him to hate her. Loathe her for what she made him feel, in this very moment.

"Is that all you've got?" She questioned, her voice breaking with each poignant thrust. "Show me who you really are-" In that moment her world went white, and a hoarse shout echoed in her ears and bled into her cranium as a spasm of colors and emotion she had never expected. Freedom, love, joy, curiosity, peevishness. It took her a few moments to come back to reality, even as her lover brought himself to stillness behind her.

Their breaths mingled in tandem, both attempting to catch up with reality in some form or fashion.

Nyota was the first to stir, brushing her sweat soaked hair away from her face and reaching between them to pull her dress back down, she turned around and smiled shyly. "Are you okay Spock?"

At that moment, Spock could only nod. His arms were outstretched on either side of her head and framed her to hold her in. His breathing finally returned to normal, he watched in a daze like fascination as she repositioned him in his pants and refastened his closures.

"67...67% of human women have fantasies of sexual activity that does not involve their consent..." He began, slowly righting himself before checking their surroundings and leading them out of the alleyway.

"I know..." Nyota purred, "Maybe I should have a night out more often." She giggled and winced as the light of their building came into view. "And you thought this game wasn't going to be worthwhile." There was a moment of silence. Confused she looked up at Spock to see him hiding the hint of a smile on his face.

"I thought you were going to make me play Scrabble again."

**The End.**


End file.
